by Patricia Fry
“Good job. Thank you,” he said. “I didn’t finish my sausage and egg sandwich this morning; do you think he’d like that? He’s probably hungry.”
“No,” Savannah insisted, hearing Craig’s suggestion. “Stop at the store and buy some kibbles or a can of cat food on your way to the station. Just don’t leave him in the car long. Or, better yet, stop at the clinic and borrow a carrier for him. Michael will give you a couple of cans of food.” She peered in at the cat and smiled. “So glad we found you, Pumpkin.”
****
“This has been an enjoyable ride,” Sandy said as they headed back to her small ranch later that afternoon.
“I’m so glad we made the date,” Savannah said. “Let’s do this more often.”
“I’m game.”
“Is Moose doing okay?” Savannah asked.
“Oh, yes. He’s tough. I’m thankful that we can still ride together—Moose and I. I’m pretty sure that if I hadn’t been training him so rigorously for the endurance circuit, he wouldn’t be as strong as he is and he may have had to retire completely. It’ll be a lot of work keeping him healthy and comfortable.”
“How so?” Savannah asked.
“He’ll need exercise pretty much every day, leg rubs, massages,” Sandy explained. “But it will be worthwhile and good for me, as well.”
“Are you working now, Sandy?”
She nodded. “I’m boarding a few horses—maybe you saw them out behind the house, and I’m giving lessons. One of my clients is training an endurance horse, so that’s exciting for me. I sold some property from my parents’ estate, and that’s helping me to get along while I build my business.”
“You sound industrious,” Savannah said. Suddenly she stopped her mare and pulled her camera around in front of her. “The color over that hillside is stunning,” she said, snapping a few pictures.
“Wow!” Sandy said. “I didn’t notice that on our way up.” She glanced around. “The lighting is perfect for that shot. Are you closing in on the hillside or trying to take it all in? I think I’ll try one of each, although that bar down there doesn’t add much to the picture.”
“Good idea,” Savannah said. She gazed at the scene ahead. “Gosh, that could possibly be a winner in the fair photography competition.”
Sandy grinned. “You like competition too, do you?”
Savannah nodded. She gazed at the picturesque hillside again. “This has been such a nice ride. Thanks for sharing it with me. I really needed this.” She frowned. “Even visiting the murder site had a positive outcome when Rags found Marvin’s missing cat.” She looked down at Rags, who was riding across the front of the saddle. “I still can’t believe the instincts of this cat. He really is rather unique, if I do say so myself.”
Chapter Four
“So was that Pumpkin?” Savannah asked when Craig called her later that afternoon.
“That was Pumpkin,” he said. “He’s back home with his family.”
“So Marvin’s home, too? Did you let him go?” Savannah asked.
“Not yet. It still appears that the man had opportunity and a possible motive.”
“What about evidence?” Savannah asked. “What evidence is there besides his cat’s fur, and why would he close up his own cat in an abandoned building and leave him to die?”
“Why, indeed?” Craig said. “To throw us off his trail, perhaps. He probably planned to release the cat when the coast was clear.”
“And the bandana?” Savannah questioned. “I’d think it would provide you with the evidence you need. Whose DNA is on it?”
“Just the victim’s.” Craig said.
“Oh, that’s right,” Savannah muttered.
“What do you mean?”
“Rich wore gloves with that stupid scrubs outfit. His plan was to use the bandana to wipe her blood off his knife.”
“And since her ex-husband was at the scene with the rest of you, he was also well aware of that. He could have found a similar red bandana anywhere,” Craig explained.
“But,” Savannah said, “that particular bandana was Rich’s. You came by and got the missing swatch, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I found it among the trash on your floorboards. Savannah, I’m surprised at you. How can you let your car get so trashy?”
“I have small children, that’s how,” she said defensively.
Craig chuckled. “Blame it on the kids.” More seriously he said, “Yeah, that piece definitely came from the bandana Rags found today. You say you’re sure it was Mr. Lang’s?”
“Yes. I’m telling you, Craig, that corner was torn off the bandana Saturday night, and Rich left with the rest of the thing still stuffed in his back pocket.”
The detective huffed, “Yeah, so you say. I’d like to hear from the rest of your pack before I make a determination on that issue.”
“Well, I hope they noticed,” Savannah barked, “because I sure did.”
****
“What’s this?” Savannah asked a little while later when she saw an envelope with her name scrawled across it laying on the buffet.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to give that to you,” Gladys said. “I found it on your windshield a couple of days ago when I used your car to pick up Teddy at the day care. I stuck it in my jacket pocket and just remembered it this morning.”
Savannah turned the envelope over a couple of times, then opened it. “Oh!” she yelped.
“What is it, hon?” Michael asked from his chair in the living room.
Savannah started to speak when her phone chimed. “It’s Sandy.” She frowned, saying, “I hope Moose didn’t have a setback after our ride. Hi, Sandy.”
“Hi. Hey, did you get a chance to look at the photos you took today?”
“No, why?”
“Well, I don’t know if this is important or not.” Sandy paused.
“What?” Savannah asked.
“Look at those pictures we took from above the bar and the old building—when we were shooting across at that pretty hillside,” Sandy suggested.
“Why? Did it turn out as spectacularly as we thought it would?”
“It’s nice,” Sandy said, “but what I want you to look at is something in the background. I took one wide shot, capturing the bar and the old building, and I think I caught something you might be interested in.”
This piqued Savannah’s curiosity. “No kidding, what?”
“I’ll send it to you,” Sandy promised. “There’s a man up behind the building, stooping over in what appears to be the same spot where you found that handkerchief. I thought it looked a little suspicious—I mean, since someone was killed up there and all.”
“Where Rags found the bandana?” Savannah asked.
“It was a distance shot, but yeah, that’s what it looks like to me,” Sandy confirmed.
Savannah took a breath. “Gosh, that’s where the body was—or probably was, if the scene played out like we saw it the other night. Hey, in fact, there was still a little chalk around that area, right? Did you see that when we were out there today?”
“Yes,” Sandy said. “It was pretty faint, but yeah, I saw what could have been a chalk line. That’s where it appears the guy is in this picture.”
After thinking about it, Savannah said, “Oh, I imagine that place attracts all sorts of bums.”
“I’m sure, but this guy doesn’t look like a homeless dude to me. I closed in on him as tightly as I could on the computer and…Savannah, I think you should take a look at it. You might want to show this to your detective friend.”
“Okay. Yeah, email it, would you? I’ll watch for it. Thanks, Sandy.” Before Savannah could pocket her phone, it chimed again. “Hi, Dora,” she said. “How are you?”
“Not very well,” came her response. “Savannah, are you getting threats?”
Savannah winced. “Actually, yes. Mom just gave it to me. She found it on my car windshield. Did you get something?”
“Yes. A couple of days ago, and I’ve b
een reluctant to take it seriously until I ran into Bev. She’s beside herself with worry.”
“She got one, too?”
“Yes. Savannah, what’s to keep Rich from—you know, carrying out his threats?”
“Good question.” Savannah sighed. “Hey, today Rags may have dug up more incriminating evidence at the murder site, and I just got a call about a photograph actually showing someone who might have been trying to retrieve this very evidence. Let me talk to my detective friend and I’ll call you back. All of this might change things dramatically. By the way, did you go down to the station and give a statement?”
“No,” Dora said deliberately. “No. I couldn’t do it; not after receiving this awful note. I’m all alone here except for when Charlotte comes to help with the kitties, and I certainly can’t put her in danger. No, Savannah. I will do whatever Rich wants me to do in order to keep myself and Charlotte and my kitty-babies safe.”
“So you’re sure the threat came from Rich?” Savannah challenged.
“Of course. Who else? Poor Marvin’s in jail, and we all know the murder occurred just like Rich planned it.”
“Yes,” Savannah said, “but remember, Marvin was there with us Saturday night. He could have…” she paused, “or someone else could have seen Rich’s demonstration and decided to…” She took a deep breath. “Dora, I understand that you’re frightened, and I’m really sorry. So does Bev feel the same way?” she asked. “I mean, is she afraid to give a statement at the sheriff’s office, too?”
“Pretty much,” Dora said. “She’s a nervous wreck. Her husband’s sick, you know, and she feels they’re vulnerable. Now, you won’t talk to the police, will you? You have small children. It’s just too risky.”
“I’m afraid I already have,” Savannah said. “But, Dora, they may have enough evidence to identify the killer. Whether it turns out to be Rich or someone else, he should no longer be a threat.”
“I wish I could believe that,” Dora said quietly. When Savannah didn’t respond right away, Dora admitted, “I had a close call this morning.”
“What happened?” Savannah asked, alarmed.
Michael and Gladys looked up at her.
“You know how some of my kitties like to enjoy the morning sunshine on my porch?” Dora asked. She took a ragged breath. “I let them out there this morning. I was rocking in my porch chair and crocheting a kitty blanket when someone drove by, slowed down, and shot toward my house.”
“Shot?” Savannah asked.
Now Gladys and Michael were hanging onto Savannah’s every word.
“Pellets. They were little pellets, but they sure could have done damage to my cats and to me. A couple of the pellets embedded in the cushion on the wicker chair Tallulah was laying on. Oh, Savannah, I’m so worried for my kitties. I grabbed them all up and took them inside. I don’t know if I’ll ever let them out again like that.”
“That was this morning?” Savannah asked.
“Yes, early this morning.”
Savannah hesitated before saying, “Well, as I said, whoever killed that woman and left those warnings should be behind bars soon, Dora. In fact, I’m going to call Detective Sledge right now—well, as soon as I check out that photograph I told you about. I’ll let you know as soon as an arrest has been made, okay?”
Ten minutes later Savannah called Craig. “So did they get anything from that bandana?”
“They’re working on it,” he said. He paused before asking, “You said you witnessed Mr. Lang with the bandana when it was torn?”
“Yes, I watched him snag it on the barbs at the top of that fence,” she assured him.
Craig was quiet for a moment. “I still can’t believe anyone could climb a fence like that and get over the top of it.”
“Rich told us he’s been practicing at that gym,” she reminded him. “If you practice something enough times, you can get pretty good at it.”
“I guess,” Craig said. “As for whether that kerchief is worthwhile evidence, it’s hard to say. I’m not sure unless there’s DNA on it from him.”
“Okay, well, I have something else,” Savannah said. “I just sent it to you. It’s a photograph Sandy took today.”
“Sandy?” he asked.
“The gal I was riding with.”
“On that giant horse?”
“Yes. That’s Moose. He is big, isn’t he?” Savannah confirmed.
Craig chuckled. “Didn’t seem like your cat was intimidated by him, though.”
“No,” Savannah said. “They’re great friends.”
He hesitated before asking, “So what do you have for me tonight and where did it come from all of a sudden?”
“Sandy and I did a little photography while we were riding today, and she just sent me a photo of what appears to be Rich Lang looking around in the area where Rags found the bandana. Do you suppose he was looking for it? It’s possible that he suddenly realized he got home without it and he went back to see if he could find it.”
“Why would he?” Craig asked. “You said he wore gloves, during the so-called rehearsal. Why would he be concerned about leaving behind a run-of-the-mill red bandana?”
“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “In fact, I got the impression that he planned to leave it behind with her blood on it—at least in his story. Maybe he was looking for something else—something he figured could incriminate him.”
“Possibly. Okay, send the picture and I’ll take a look at it,” Craig suggested.
“It’s on the way,” Savannah said. “I have to say, even though the photo is taken from a distance, I can identify Rich just by what he’s wearing and his stance. I imagine others from the writers group could too.”
“What do you mean by that?” he growled.
She chuckled. “Well, he’s a bit unique. Maybe not at first, I guess, but he has an interesting way of moving and standing and he wears those polo shirts in bright colors—except for the night of the rehearsal. That night he wore a black one.”
“Okay, so you think it’s him. I guess I could arrest him for trespassing, but where would that get us?” he asked.
Savannah remained quiet before saying, “I don’t know. I just thought you’d like this tidbit. Do with it what you want—or not. I need to put dinner on the table.”
“Wait,” Craig said.
“What?” she snapped.
Craig spoke more quietly. “We found Mr. Stanley’s cat’s fur in Mr. Lang’s car.”
“Really?” Savannah shouted. “Well, there you go.”
“Where?” he asked. “Where do you think this information takes us?”
“It proves that Rich took the cat, probably planning to frame Marvin for the murder, then he locked the cat up in that soundproof room to die.”
“I want the guy,” Craig said. “I want him bad, but not for catnapping. No, we need something a little more incriminating before we bring him in, and we’re close, Savannah. You can rest assured that we’re very close.”
“I hope so, Craig, because some of us have received threats.”
“What?” Craig bellowed. “What sort of threats? From whom?”
“Probably Rich. I got one and so did Dora and Bev—the other two ladies who were with me out there Saturday night.”
“In writing?” he asked. “Are the threats in writing?”
“Yes—well mine’s printed.”
“I want those notes. I’ll send someone over to get them. Can you put your hands on the ones your friends received?”
“I’m sure I can, if they haven’t discarded them. Give me fifteen minutes or so.”
“Perfect,” Craig said. “Now we’re cookin’.”
“Oh, Craig, and someone shot pellets at Dora’s house while she sat on the porch with her cats this morning.”
“What? You’re just now telling me this?” Craig grumped. “Savannah, that’s serious stuff, and you give it to me as an incidental? Put your cat on the line. He’s easier to work with than you are.”
Savannah laughed nervously.
“Give me this gal’s address,” he barked. “I’m sending someone out there.”
Savannah’s next call was to Dora. “Hey, do you still have the threatening note you received?”
“Well, I put it in the garbage, but I can go get it. Why?” Dora asked.
“Detective Sledge wants it. He’s sending someone out to pick it up. It just might be the evidence they need to arrest Rich.”
“Oh my, I sure hope so.” Her voice shrill, she asked, “They’re coming here to get it?”
“Yes, and they also want to investigate the pellet-gun shooting you told me about.”
“But what if he drives by and sees officers at my house? Oh, Savannah,” Dora said, “I just don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” Savannah said, “but it’s too late. Someone’s on the way. Listen, Dora, if you’re frightened, you can come stay here with us. We can take your kitties to my aunt’s shelter if you would feel more comfortable, but with the evidence they will gather from your place this evening, it could mean they can arrest Rich. That’s what we want, right? And right now it seems that we’re the only ones who can possibly help with that.”
Dora sighed deeply. “Okay, Savannah. I’m sure you’re right.”
“If you would feel safer, ask if an officer can stay with you.”
“I’ll think about that,” Dora said. “I’d better go get that note and prepare for the sheriff’s arrival. Thank you, Savannah, for being such a dear friend.”
“Awww, what a sweet thing to say, Dora. Now go make sure your doors and windows are locked and I’ll talk to you soon.”
****
The Iveys had just finished dinner that evening when Savannah’s phone chimed. “Michael, want to get that for me?” she called. “Lily and I are up to our elbows in bubbly dishwater.”